


Mycroft's Fridge

by BarPurple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, The Six Thatchers Spoilers, tiny ones but y'know tag with care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:10:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9203273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: enigmaticpenguinofdeath and iamtheno1cumbercookie on Tumblr suggested the idea for this fic. So it's partly their fault :)





	

The first time all the food went missing from his fridge he’d changed the locks of his house. That resulted in an angry phone call from Mummy who wanted to know why the key she’d borrowed from Sherlock didn’t work anymore. It took Mycroft twenty minutes to calm her down and get her off the phone so he could phone the locksmith and arrange a spare set of keys to be couriered to his parents’ house. He didn’t bother sending Sherlock a set, no doubt it would briefly entertain him to “obtain” a copy.

He rather suspected that Mummy had bent Sherlock’s ear about his prank because nothing happened for another few months. It was foolish of him to think that was the end of his little brother’s childishness, apparently he’d just been biding his time. Mycroft returned home from an exhausting overseas conference, weary with jetlag only to find several people in his fridge. To be accurate it was several parts of several people, all bearing St Bart’s tags sitting upon the paperwork that allowed for their release from the morgue. Mycroft had sworn in three separate languages before he’d been able to compose himself. He sounded quite convivial when he called Molly Hooper and requested her assistance.

Sherlock discovered subtly after that. Mycroft came home to the lingering scent of cigarettes and carefully open the fridge to find nothing out of place. The stage blood pack that was triggered when he lifted out a plate of cake reminded him the error of accepting appearances at first glance. He never spoke of the incident to Sherlock, but he did bill him for the dry cleaning, after all he was rather fond of that suit.

When his brother was simply bored Mycroft would find an empty fridge and all his take away menus replaced with Weight Watchers flyers. On very bad days the food would be there, but there would be a scrawled list and location under one of the magnets on the fridge door.

The fridge became a strange sort of dead letter drop between the brothers Holmes. More times than he cared to recall Mycroft had come home to find documents in his fridge, or items of a sensitive nature that he had bullied Sherlock in to finding tucked behind health foods or half eaten cakes, once the very dead body of a spy awaited him, (Sherlock still had the angry voicemail Mycroft had left after that incident). 

So finding an empty fridge wasn’t that much of a surprise, nor was the Post-It note under his favourite Chinese menu. The message was unexpected, but possibly for the best. Only time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> enigmaticpenguinofdeath and iamtheno1cumbercookie on Tumblr suggested the idea for this fic. So it's partly their fault :)


End file.
